Confidence
by PiaculumDeFatum
Summary: Will Greg ever get the confidence to tell Sara? Oneshot Songfic Sandle. Rated for mild swearing.


_**A/N (original):** Hi all! Welcome to my first attempt at a song-fic. This is a one shot Sandle story. Not altogether too much to say. The characters are the property of CBS, Alliance Atlantis, Jerry Bruckheimer and Anthony Zuiker. The song is _For You I Will (Confidence) _ by Teddy Geiger. All mistakes are my own, because this is un-beta'd. Anyway, enjoy!_

_**A/N (new):** Most spelling/grammatical errors have been fixed. Of course, I suck at editing myself, but at least most of the mistakes were minor._

"**Wandering the streets**

**In a world underneath it all"**

Greg Sanders groaned loudly as his alarm clock went off an hour earlier than usual. He rolled out of bed and let loose a string of expletives as he stubbed his toe on the chair next to his bed.

Still cursing slightly, he stumbled into the kitchen, rummaging for a mug. His stupid car was in the shop, so he had to walk to work. Sure, he could've taken the bus or asked someone for a ride, but he had his pride to maintain. Truthfully, it was just because he had forgotten to ask someone for a lift, and he didn't know which bus went to the lab.

He cursed again as he realized he had forgotten to reset the timer on his coffee machine, and hence had no steamy cup of Blue Hawaiian waiting for him. Life hated him today…but at least he could stop by Starbucks on the way to work.

Meandering over to the sink, he ripped the previous day's page off of his "inspirational" calendar. He had gotten it for himself as a joke to try and encourage himself to ask Sara out. Again.

He had given up for awhile. In fact, he hadn't openly hit on her for a good two years now. Once she became his mentor, they had both set up some unspoken boundaries, and even after he had passed his proficiencies, they had become such good friends that he hadn't wanted to ruin it. Thus, the calendar came into being.

In any case, he ripped off yesterday's and read the next one. "You'll always miss 100 Percent of the shots you never take," proclaimed the far-too-cheerful paper. Greg could just imagine some chipper lady chirping the words at some inspirational seminar.

He shuddered and looked mournfully around the cramped kitchen. It was actually clean for once; on his last day off he had cleaned his entire apartment, and he hadn't been home enough recently to get it dirty again.

In fact, he and Sara had been ordered by Ecklie that they could not work overtime at all this week, since they had maxed out on overtime two weeks in a row. That and the fact that last time they maxed out, Nick's car got stolen with all the evidence in it.

Greg chuckled to himself. Truth be told, he still thought that that whole situation was funny.

He stopped laughing as he saw what time it was. If he didn't leave shortly, he was going to be late.

Managing to shower and dress in record time, he grabbed his iPod and set off. His tattered Converse sneakers made funny noises against the pavement as he walked, and he hid a smile, turning the volume on his iPod all the way up. With Radiohead blasting in his ears, he put his hands in the pockets of his blazer, put his head down and headed out.

"**Nothing seems to be"**

He walked down the familiar streets, marveling as always at how different they looked from the sidewalks. From the street you never saw the filth hidden in dark alleys or swept into shadowy corners.

Ducking down some alleys, he successfully avoided the Strip. He would rather not have to suffer through the mass of tourists trying to blow their money on every major casino in Vegas.

He would never understand gambling. There was so much you lost for such a small pay out. Now, he could understand risk-taking. Hell, he was the same guy whose favorite activities included surfing and skydiving. But wasting away on a game where the odds are always against you? He just couldn't get into it.

Maybe if he had been a gambler, he'd have taken a chance on Sara a long time ago. He liked her. Make no mistake about that. He would venture so far as to say he loved her, not that he really knew what that meant. She just did something to him, something he couldn't describe or comprehend.

Hell, she'd practically watched him grow up from the skinny little nerd to the cocky lab rat to the timid field mouse and finally to the fairly good CSI he was today. She'd seen him at his best, had been there with hugs and champagne on the day he passed his proficiency, and she'd seen him at his worst, had in fact come to visit him only an hour after his first skin graft after the explosion, when not even morphine could dull the pain. They'd been in the decontamination shower together, waded through decomps together, exploded a toilet and solved some pretty weird-ass cases together.

Yet through it all, as their friendship had grown, so had his feelings for her. He truly, deeply loved her, and respected her as a friend and his mentor. He's seen how guys had hurt her in the past and he knew he would never hurt her like that.

Greg shook his head as he came up to the lab. Someday he'd tell her how he felt. Who knew when, but one day.

"**Nothing tastes as sweet**

**As what I can't have**

**Like you and the way**

**That you're twisting your hair**

'**Round your finger"**

Greg walked into the lab and gave a short wave to Judy at Reception. He headed into the DNA lab. "Hey Wendy," he said, leaning casually against the desk. "Did you get my results from yesterday?"

"Mm-hmm," she said, not looking up from the microscope. "They're right there on the desk. The hair didn't have any tags attached still, sorry, but the blood you found wasn't the vic's. No hits in CODIS."

"Great," said Greg dryly, picking up the file folder and thumbing through it. "I'll try and find you something to compare it to."

Wendy nodded, then looked up, raising one eyebrow. "I tried paging you yesterday, you know," she remarked, "but you never answered my page."

Greg grinned. "Sara and I are forbidden from working overtime this week. Henceforth, by the time you paged, I was gone, long gone."

Making a face at him, she went back to looking in the microscope. "Good for you," she muttered. "Some of us had to pull a double yesterday while you were out partying. Swell."

Greg shrugged apologetically. Looking around in an attempt at nonchalance, he asked casually, "Where is Sara, anyway?"

Wendy shrugged. "Talking to Hodges, I think. He got your results back from the GCMS."

Nodding slowly, Greg swiveled to face the Trace lab, dark eyes searching. He brightened as he saw Sara standing, one hand on her hip, the other running through her hair. She had a bored expression on her face as she watched Hodges talking animatedly, gesturing with his hands.

Sara's eyes met Greg's and she grinned, giving him a small wave. He waved back, grinning, and he ducked his head, a light blush sweeping across his face.

**Tonight I'm not afraid to tell you**

**What I feel about you"**

Greg gave a hasty good-bye to Wendy and ducked into the locker room before Sara could come out of Trace. He willed his racing heart to calm and his flushed face to cool.

She just did things to him. She was the one person who made him grin like a fool when she simply smiled, the one person who brightened his entire day with a simple hello, the one person who made his whole existence worthwhile by simply existing.

He wanted to tell her what he really felt. Not just hit on her or flirt with her, but really tell her. How she lit up his life and made him want to give up his clubbing ways and settle down. Hell, she made him feel like a he was a marrying kind of man.

But he was afraid. With Sara, you never knew what her reaction was going to be. She could laugh in his face, for all he knew, or smack him in the face. She could file for sexual harassment or castrate him. And he definitely didn't want that. As a matter of fact, she could do all four, and that would be a major and lasting blow to whatever shreds of pride he maintained.

Yet somehow, today, Greg wasn't afraid. Sure, he was terrified that she was going to permanently mutilate his genitals when he told her, but he still wanted to try. He needed to try.

"**I'm gonna muster every ounce**

**Of confidence I have**

**And cannonball into the water**

**Gonna muster every ounce of**

**Confidence I have**

**For you I will**

**For you I will"**

And he was going to try. He had to, because if he didn't, he might never know what could've happened. Greg was a man who lived his life with as few regrets as possible, but this was one thing he would regret not doing forever.

He opened his locker and reached inside, pulling out his source of inspiration, his old, battered, taped-up copy of The Little Engine That Could. Yes, that's right, the infamous children's book. It had provided years of encouragement for countless children, Greg among them.

He opened the book and repeated the signature phrase to himself. "I think I can, I think I can." Taking a deep breath, he summoned courage from depths he didn't know he had, and, after tossing the book back in his locker and closing it, he squared his shoulders and marched out of the locker room to find Sara.

"**Forgive me if I st-stutter**

**From all of the clutter**

**In my head**

**Cuz I could fall asleep in those eyes**

**Like a water bed"**

Unfortunately, Grissom found him first. "Shouldn't you be working on the McKenzie case?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

Greg cringed. "Yessir, I was just on my way to—"

"Good," interrupted Grissom, already turning away. "Get there. Since you can't work overtime, you have to utilize the time you have here."

"Yeah, I know," said Greg dejectedly, heading sullenly over to the evidence locker to retrieve the crime scene photos. He went to an open examining room and started laying the photos out.

He was so engrossed in his work that he hardly noticed when the door opened and Sara came in, leaning casually against the door with a small smile on her face as she watched him work. "Having fun?" she asked, smirking.

Greg jumped about a foot in the air and whirled around. "Sara!" he exclaimed, clutching the edge of the table for support. "Jesus Christ! You almost gave me a heart attack! Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"I didn't sneak," protested Sara, raising an eyebrow at him. "I was clearly standing therefore the better part of a minute, and you just never noticed." She walked around to where he stood, looking over the photos. "These are the crime scene photos, right?" she asked, not really expecting an answer. "Did you find anything?"

Nodding and pointing one out, Greg said, "There's a bloody shoeprint in that one. Might be able to get something off of it. I'm gonna blow it up."

"Let me take a look," she said, reaching for it. As he went to hand it to her, their hands brushed, and she met his eyes, smiling slightly.

Greg felt almost an electric current run through his body as they touched, and he openly stared at her, looking deep into her eyes, almost losing himself in them.

Clearing her throat slightly, Sara took the picture from him, conveniently ignoring his furious blush. "I'm gonna, um, take this to blow it up," she said quietly, smiling as she turned away.

"Sara, wait," said Greg, reaching out and catching her arm.

She turned back to him, confusion in her dark eyes. "What is it, Greg?"

He took a deep breath, then visibly deflated. "Page me when you get the results, would you?" he asked meekly, not meeting her eyes.

She sighed in what could've almost been disappointment and nodded. "Sure, Greg. I'll page you." She turned away and left, closing the door behind her.

Greg sighed deeply and turned back to the photos. "Damn," he muttered under his breath. 'Damn."

"**Do I seem familiar**

**I've crossed you in hallways**

**A thousand times"**

About fifteen minutes alter, Greg got Sara's page and left, heading to where she was. He strolled down the hallway, hands in pockets. She came out of the lab and walked with him, gesturing emphatically with a file folder. "Take a look at this," she said triumphantly. "We've got enough to do a tread-pattern comparison."

"Great," said Greg enthusiastically, giving her a grin. "And we've got the shoes from the husband to use as a comparison."

"Yup," said Sara, returning his smile.

"Great, I'll get them from the evidence locker," he said, making as if to head out, but this time, Sara caught his arm.

"Wait a minute," she said, brow furrowed. "What were you really trying to say before?"

Greg swallowed hard and looked away for a second before locking eyes with her. "I…I…" he stammered, trying to buy time.

"Yes?" asked Sara, eyes searching his.

He blushed and averted his eyes. "Look, it's nothing. I'll tell you later, alright?" She started to protest, but he cut her off. "Later, ok?"

"Alright," she said with a shrug. "Go get that shoe for me, would you?"

Greg nodded mutely and turned on heel to go get it. Sara watched him leave before turning and leaving herself.

"**No more camouflage**

**I want to be exposed**

**And not be afraid to fall"**

"Damn, damn, DAMN!" swore Greg as he stomped into the locker room again after dropping the shoe off for Sara. "Why? Why couldn't I just tell her? Three fucking words, and I couldn't say them!"

Nick looked up, bemused, from where he was sitting on the bench, tying his shoe. "Tough day, man?" he asked, amusement evident in his voice.

Greg groaned and sank onto the bench, holding his head in his hands. "You don't know the half of it."

"Probably not," agreed Nick with a shrug as he resumed tying his shoes. "But if you tell me what's going on, I'll try and help you however I can." When Greg looked reluctant, Nick urged, "Come on, I'm a good listener, I promise."

Sighing again, Greg relented. "Ok, well, say there's this girl that I like. And I mean really like. Really, really, really like. But I've tried in the past, you know? And been turned down every time. But this time…I dunno, something's different. Should I go for it? Should I just give up?"

Nick had a small smile on his face by the time Greg had finished, and he asked casually, "This is a hypothetical situation, right?" Greg nodded adamantly. "Ok," continued Nick. "So let's say this girl is hypothetically…hm…let's see…" He pretended to be deep in thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers as if he had just had an idea. "Hypothetically Sara. You want to know if you should go for it?"

Greg flushed crimson. "I never said it was Sara," he muttered sullenly, giving Nick a dark look.

Laughing, Nick said, "You didn't have to, man. Everyone knows you and her have a…you know, a thing." He paused, sobering quickly. "But seriously, man, you want some advice? If there's one thing I learned from…from what happened last year, it's not to take people for granted. Make your move now, before it's too late."

Greg nodded, slowly and contemplatively. "Thanks, Nick," he said without looking up. "I think I will."

Nick smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. "Go get her, Greggo," he said as he left, leaving Greg behind in his thoughts.

"**I'm gonna muster every ounce**

**Of confidence I have**

**And cannonball into the water**

**Gonna muster every ounce of**

**Confidence I have**

**For you I will"**

Sara put down the picture and grinned. The shoe tread matched. Even if he didn't do it, there should be enough evidence to haul the husband in for questioning. She looked at the clock and groaned. At this rate, she wouldn't even get to bring the husband in before she would be forced to go home.

She frowned and stood, making up her mind that she was not going to stand for this. Hell, she'd work off the clock if she had to, but she just wanted to get this case solved, to get justice for the poor woman. Grissom would relent; she was sure of it. There were plenty of cases that needed solving, and truthfully, they needed her and Greg to stay overtime. They were stretched to the limit as it was, and with two CSIs basically incapacitated…well, as much as Cath, Warrick and Nick might think they were superheroes, the other cases would never get solved.

Nodding her head in conviction, she left the evidence processing room and headed straight to Grissom's office. Marching in without knocking, she sat down and said sternly, "We have to talk."

"**You always want**

**What you can't have**

**But I've got to try**

**I'm gonna muster every ounce**

**Of confidence I have**

**For you I will**

**For you I will**

**For you I will"**

Greg left the locker room with newfound confidence, walking straight to the evidence room Sara had been in.

Much to his surprise, she wasn't in there. All the evidence was still spread out over the table, but Sara was definitely not in the room.

Brow furrowed in confusion, Greg left, heading to the DNA lab. Maybe Wendy had paged with some new results. However, the only person in DNA was Wendy, and she was busy with something under the microscope.

Confused even more and baffled as to where she might be, Greg next went to the A/V lab. He didn't know why she would be there, but better safe than sorry, right?

Of course, she wasn't there, and Greg stood in the hallway, literally scratching his head in wonder.

As he looked around, movement in Grissom's office caught his eye. It was Sara; she was pacing around and talking to Grissom.

Greg frowned suspiciously and narrowed his eyes. Now Sara wasn't just talking, she was laughing. And Grissom was laughing too. Greg felt his jaw clench as he watched them engage in what appeared to be very close to flirting.

As he watched them, he felt his heart shattering into a million pieces. Of course Grissom would get her. Why shouldn't he? Greg would never have her now.

"**For you**

**If I could dim the light in the lab**

**And create a mood, yeah**

**I would**

**Shout out your name so**

**It echoes in every room**

**I would"**

Even as he felt his heart breaking, Greg could also feel himself getting angry. Why shouldn't Grissom get Sara? Because Greg loved her, that's why. Because he had loved her for years and had waited for so long.

He had waited for too long for this moment to just let it slip through his fingers without even attempting to hold on to it.

He had tried so hard to tiptoe around with his crush on Sara to avoid stepping on Grissom's toes in case he decided to actually take Sara up on her offers. But he never had, and Greg was tired of it. Screw not stepping on someone's toes. At the very least, he had to try.

"**That's what I'd do**

**That's what I'd do**

**That's what I'd do**

**To get through you, yeah"**

Greg took a deep breath and strode quickly to Grissom's office. Without knocking, he banged open the door, shouting, "Sara, wait!"

"…so he and I should really be allowed…" Sara trailed off as Greg came in. "What, Greg?" she asked, frowning slightly at him.

He stopped and took a deep breath. "Sra, you can't do this. I can't let you do this. Not until you hear me out."

Sara blinked at him and raised her eyebrows in confusion. "Can't do what, Greg?"

He gestured around the small office and at Grissom. "This…you can't do this."

Bewildered, she turned to Grissom, who took over where she left off. "Greg, I don't know what you're talking about, but Sara and I were just discussing the possibility of you and her working overtime again."

Now it was Greg's turn to look at Sara in confusion. "You were?" She nodded slowly and he blushed crimson. "Oh. Well. I'll just get out of your way, then."

He bolted for the door, face turning, if possible, even brighter than it had been before. Sara looked at Grissom and shrugged helplessly. She had no idea what was going on.

Grissom blinked at her and turned back to his desk, suddenly business-like. "Yes, Sara, you and Greg can work overtime today." She nodded in assent and stood, but Grissom stopped her. "Oh, and Sara? You might want to go after Greg and see what all that was about."

She nodded again and left to search for Greg.

"**I'm gonna muster every ounce**

**Of confidence I have**

**And cannonball into the water**

**Gonna muster every ounce of**

**Confidence I have**

**For you I will"**

Sara saw Greg walking down the hallway as if in a daze and she ran after him, calling, "Greg! Greg!" She slowed as she caught up to him. "Greg." He turned and faced her and she was surprised to see the glint of tears in his eyes. Concerned, she asked, "Greg, what's wrong?"

He took a ragged breath and looked her in the eyes. Why was he hesitating again? This was Sara, yes, but Sara was his friend above all else, and friends don't keep secrets from each other. He'd been harboring this secret for years, and maybe, just maybe, it was time to get it over with.

He took another deep breath. This is it, Sanders, he thought to himself. Just do it, and do it quickly, like ripping off a band-aid.

He sighed and swallowed. "Sara…I"

"**You always want**

**What you can't have**

**But I've got to try**

**I'm gonna muster every ounce**

**Of confidence I have"**

The words poured out of his mouth in a rush. "Sara, I'm sorry I didn't tell you this sooner, but we were just becoming such good friends and you were my mentor and you never took me seriously before and I didn't want to hurt our friendship or our working relationship or anything like that, and besides, I didn't want Grissom to get mad at me, and—"

"Whoa!" she exclaimed, holding up a hand and laughing slightly. "Slow down, ok? Let's start at the beginning. You didn't tell me something." She paused and cocked her head at him. "Does this have anything to do with what you were trying to tell me earlier?"

He nodded slowly. "This was what I was trying to tell you before," he said quietly, avoiding her eyes.

She looked at him, waiting, then sighed and said, "Spit it out, would you?"

He swallowed. "SaraSidleILoveYou," he said all in one breath, blushing as if surprised by his audacity.

She stared at him, shock written all over her face. "What?" she asked quietly once her voice started working again.

He looked her straight in her eyes, deep chocolate meeting lighter brown. "I love you," he said again.

"**For you I will**

**For you I will**

**For you I will"**

"I wasn't asking you to repeat it," she said dazedly. "I heard you the first time."

"Oh, right," said Greg, blush rising in his cheeks again. He started to step away from her. "Er, I'll just go now…"

"You love me," repeated Sara, still looking at him in wonder. "But…why?"

He blinked at her. "How could I not love you?" he asked. "You're…amazing. You're funny, beautiful, smart…just amazing. There's something about you that makes my heart pound and my palms sweat. God, Sara, jut being with you is…" He paused, searching for the right word. "Intoxicating. You're everything I have ever wanted in a woman." He paused again and sighed. "Look, I had this whole elaborate speech planned, and I know it failed miserably, but—"

She cut him off rather effectively by kissing him. 'Greg," she whispered, pulling away from him for a brief second, "sometimes you talk too much." She stepped away from him but held on to his hand. "I guess now's the time when I say I love you, right?"

Greg grinned, still in shock. "Yup, and then I take you home and we fall into bed and I ravish you all night long."

Sara laughed out loud. "Sorry, but I'll have to take a rain check. I convinced Grissom to let us work overtime on the case."

"Are you serious?" groaned Greg. "The day I finally tell you I love you, and I have to work overtime?" He paused, then asked quietly, "You do really love me, right?"

She smiled and wrapped her arms around him. "Yes," she whispered. "I really do love you."

"Awesome," he breathed, kissing her gently. He paused, then asked quietly, "So, Sara, will you go out with me?"

She nodded, leaning her head against his chest. She paused and pulled away for a second, eyes suddenly serious. "Look, Greg, I don't know about you, but I'd much rather that we told the lab that we were dating as soon as possible to try and avoid all the rumors."

He smiled and rested his forehead against hers. "There'll always be rumors," he reminded her gently. "And how do you want to tell them? Do you want to send a memo or something?"

She just laughed. "Whatever you think will be fastest." She stepped away from him, still smiling. "C'mon," she said. "Let's go get this guy."

"Alright," agreed Greg. "I've just got one thing I need to do first."

"What?" asked Sara, brow furrowed.

He just winked at her before throwing his head back and bellowing, "I LOVE SARA SIDLE AND SHE LOVES ME! AND NOW WE'RE DATING!"

Sara groaned and smacked him in the arm. "Why did you do that?"

He shrugged. "It's faster than a memo." He grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently. "C'mon, crime isn't going to wait for us."

"Ok," she said, squeezing his hand back and smiling even as she shook her head at his antics. "Ok."

"**For you I will"**

**

* * *

**

_**A/N:** Oh, the word "lab" in the song was originally "mall." I changed it for obvious reasons._


End file.
